Friday, May 22, 2020
Genealogy and Jewish Last Name Origins
Many of the names that people think sound Jewish are, in fact, simple German, Russian, or Polish surnames. You generally cant identify Jewish ancestry by a surname alone. Actually, there are really only three surnames (and their variations) that are generally specifically Jewish: Cohen, Levy, and Israel. Yet, even variations of these common Jewish-specific surnames may not be Jewish in origin. The surnames Cohan and even Cohen, for example, could instead be an Irish surname, derived from OCadham (descendant of Cadhan). Clues to Surnames That May Be Jewish While few names are specifically Jewish, there are certain surnames that are more commonly found among Jews: Names ending in -berg (Weinberg, Goldberg)Names ending in -stein (Einstein, Hofstein)Names ending in -witz (Rabinowitz, Horowitz)Names ending in -baum (Metzenbaum, Himmelbaum)Names ending in -thal (Blumenthal, Eichenthal)Names ending in -ler (Adler, Winkler)Names ending in -feld (Seinfeld, Berkenfeld)Names ending in -blum (Weissblum, Rosenblum)Namesà having to do withà wealth (Goldberg, Silverstein)Names derived from Hebrew words (Mizrachi, from mizrakhi, meaning eastern, or easterner) Some Jewish surnames may originate from professions that are exclusive to Jews. The surname Shamash, and its variations such as Klausner, Templer, and Shuldiner, means shamash, a synagogue sexton. Chazanian, Chazanski, and Chasanov all derive from chazan, a cantor. Another common origin forà Jewish surnames are house names, referring to a distinctive sign attached to a house in the days before street numbers and addresses (a practice primarily in Germany, by both Gentiles and Jews). The most famous of these Jewish house names is Rothschild,à or red shield, for a house distinguished by a red sign. Many Common Jewish Last Names Sound German Many Jewish-sounding surnames are actually German in origin. This may be due to aà 1787 Austro-Hungarian lawà that required Jews to register a permanent family surname, a name they also required to be German. The decree also required that all surnames that had previously been used in Jewish families, such as those originating from a place where the family lived, should be totally abandoned.à The chosen names were subject to the approval of Austrian officials, and if a name was not chosen, one was assigned.à In 1808, Napoleon issued a similar decree that compelled Jews outside of Germany and Prussia to adopt a surname within three months of the decree, or within three months of moving into the French Empire. Similar laws requiring Jewish people to adopt permanent surnames were passed at various times by different countries, some well into the latter half of the 19th century. A Surname Alone Cant Identify Jewish Ancestry While many of the above surnames have a greater likelihood of belonging to a Jewish family, you cant assume that any of the last names are actually Jewish, no matter how Jewish they may sound to you, or how many Jewish families you know with that name. The third most common Jewish surname in America (after Cohen and Levy) is Miller, which is also obviously a very common surname for Gentiles as well. Resources and Further Reading Rieder, Estee. ââ¬Å"Whats in a Name?â⬠Mishpacha Magazine, Jewish World Review, 2007.
Wednesday, May 6, 2020
Pretty in Pink Essay - 2760 Words
Pretty in Pink Ãâ" Summary Pretty in Pink is essentially a love story about a girl from the wrong side of the tracks, the rich high school hunk who has his eye on her, and the peer pressure that threatens their budding romance. Molly Ringwald plays the character of Andie Walsh, an unpopular poor girl living in the shabbier side of town. Andrew McCarthy portrays the role of Blane McDonnagh, a wealthy heartthrob who asks her out to the prom. As their romance evolves, both characters struggle with increasing pressure from their peers whom are unsupportive of the relationship mostly because of the difference in social class. This, however, doesnt necessarily hold true for two of the characters whose objections appear to derive from otherâ⬠¦show more contentâ⬠¦It is a pretty classic high school fight with teachers running out of their classrooms to intervene. I dont think this scene does have a big modeling effect because unfortunately the kind of violence nowadays has escalated to a whole different dimens ion. Long gone are the days where two kids fought it out one-on-one with only their hands as weapons. Gangs, knives, bats, guns, or some other kind of weapon play center stage in most of the altercations today. There is a level of underlying aggression in this movie, almost like a pressure-cooker slowly building until someone blows. Steff as the bad guy is aggressive in nature, verbally harassing anyone he deems below him or in Andies case, anyone who has the gall to say no to him. He is really setting the stage for Duckies (good guy) moment of aggression, when exasperated and fed up with the entire situation, he physically attacks Steff. I think Duckie has just about had it, and although most blows are obviously in defense of Andie, I think he snuck in a couple for himself (unpopular teen) too! I would say the justification for this moment of violence comes from the fact that this is probably years in the making. These teens are seniors in high school, and Im sure anyone would blo w their lid after what was most certainly fours years of bullying. When Duckie glares Steff down in the hallway, he seems angry but also apprehensive of acting upon his feelings until a cockyShow MoreRelatedChanges in John Hughes Film The Breakfast Club Essay1075 Words à |à 5 PagesClubâ⬠which was released in February 1985. Although this movie is almost 29 years old, it is still just as applicable to todayââ¬â¢s society as it was then. Hughes is also known for other films of the same era which include, ââ¬Å"Sixteen Candlesâ⬠, ââ¬Å"Pretty in Pinkâ⬠, and ââ¬Å"Ferris Buehlerââ¬â¢s Day Offâ⬠. These films also feature the issues of teens, but their main focus is to be an entertaining story. 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The dual usage of Faith in this short story, along with its theme of devil worship amongst Puritan society draws the reader in, and leaves the story imprinted on his brain for a long time to come. As the story opens, Young Goodman Brown is about to enter the forest to partake upon an evil purpose. He leaves behind his sweet, pretty, young wife of three months, who wears pretty pink ribbons inRead MoreShort Story Chapter 11159 Words à |à 5 PagesTyler frowned as he walked down the dark, isolated streets and moved closer to Josh. ââ¬Å"Is it him?â⬠Josh asked, his voice as quiet as a kittenââ¬â¢s purr. Josh ran a hand through his faded candy pink hair, which now looked more cotton candy pink than anything. He really needed to re-dye it. 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Warm Bodies Chapter 7 Free Essays
string(183) " rooms are wallpapered with these photos, floor to ceiling, and sometimes they drag in a young zombie and make him stand there for hours, even days, silently appreciating their work\." I awake to the sound of screaming. My eyes snap open and I spit a few bugs out of my mouth. I lurch upright. We will write a custom essay sample on Warm Bodies Chapter 7 or any similar topic only for you Order Now The sound is far away but itââ¬â¢s not from the School. It lacks the plaintive panic of the Schoolââ¬â¢s still-breathing cadavers. I recognise the defiant spark in these screams, the relentless hope in the face of undeniable hopelessness. I leap to my feet and run faster than any zombie has ever run. Following the screams, I find Julie at the Departures gate. She is backed into a corner, surrounded by six drooling Dead. They close in on her, rearing back a little each time she swings her smoke-belching hedge trimmer, but advancing steadily. I rush at them from behind and crash into their tight circle, scattering them like bowling pins. The one closest to Julie I punch so hard the bones of my hand shatter into seashell crumbs. His face cracks inward and he drops. The next closest I ram into the wall, then grab his head and smash it into the concrete until his brain pops and he goes down. One of them grabs me from behind and takes a bite out of my rib meat. I reach back, tear off his rotten arm, and swing it at him like Babe Ruth. His head spins a full three-sixty on his neck, then tilts, tears and falls off. I stand there in front of Julie, brandishing the muscle-bound limb, and the Dead stop advancing. ââ¬ËJulie!ââ¬â¢ I snarl at them while pointing at her. ââ¬ËJulie!ââ¬â¢ They stare at me. They sway back and forth. ââ¬ËJulie!ââ¬â¢ I say again, not sure how else to put it. I walk up to her and press my hand against her heart. I drop the arm-club and put my other hand on my own heart. ââ¬ËJulie.ââ¬â¢ The room is silent except for the low grumble of her hedge trimmer. The air is thick with the rancid-apricot smell of stabilised gasoline, and I notice several decapitated corpses I had nothing to do with lying at her feet. Well done, Julie, I think with a faint smile. You are a lady and a scholar. ââ¬ËWhat . . . the fuck!ââ¬â¢ growls a deep voice behind me. A tall, bulky form is picking itself up off the floor. Itââ¬â¢s the first one I attacked, the one I punched in the face. Itââ¬â¢s M. I didnââ¬â¢t even recognise him in the heat of the moment. Now, with his cheekbone crushed into his head, heââ¬â¢s even harder to identify. He glares at me and rubs his face. ââ¬ËWhat are . . . doing, you . . .ââ¬â¢ He trails off, at a loss for even simple words. ââ¬ËJulie,ââ¬â¢ I say yet again, as if this is an irrefutable argument. And in a way, it is. That one word, a fully fleshed name. Itââ¬â¢s having the effect of a glowing, talking cellphone raised before a mob of primitives. All the remaining Dead stare at Julie in hushed silence, except M. He is baffled and enraged. ââ¬ËLiving!ââ¬â¢ he sputters. ââ¬ËEat!ââ¬â¢ I shake my head. ââ¬ËNo.ââ¬â¢ ââ¬ËEat!ââ¬â¢ ââ¬ËNo!ââ¬â¢ ââ¬ËEat, fucking ââ¬â ââ¬Ë ââ¬ËHey!ââ¬â¢ M and I both turn. Julie has stepped out from behind me. She glares at M and revs the trimmer. ââ¬ËFuck off,ââ¬â¢ she says. She links an arm into my elbow, and I feel a tingle of warmth spreading out from her touch. M looks at her, then at me, back to her, then back to me. His permanent grimace is tight. We appear to be in a stand-off, but before it can escalate any further the stillness is pierced by a reverberating roar, like an eerie, airless horn blast. We all turn to the escalators. Yellowed, sinewy skeletons are rising up one by one from the floors below. A small committee of Boneys emerges from the stairs and approaches me and Julie. They stop in front of us and fan out into a line. Julie backs away a little, her bravado flattening under their black, eyeless stares. Her grip on my arm tightens. One of them steps forward and stops in front of me, inches from my face. No breath wafts from its hollow mouth, but I can feel a faint, low hum emanating from its bones. This hum is not found in me, nor in M, nor in any of the other flesh-clad Dead, and I begin to wonder what exactly these dried-up creatures really are. I can no longer believe in any voodoo spell or laboratory virus. This is something deeper, darker. This comes from the cosmos, from the stars, or the unknown blackness behind them. The shadows in Godââ¬â¢s boarded-up basement. The ghoul and I are locked in a stare-down, toe to toe, eye to eye socket. I donââ¬â¢t blink, and it canââ¬â¢t. What seems like hours pass. Then it does something that slightly undermines the horror of its presence. It raises a stack of Polaroids in its pointy fingers and begins handing them to me, one by one. Iââ¬â¢m reminded of a proud old man showing off his grandkids, but the skeletonââ¬â¢s grin is far from grandfatherly, and the photos are far from heartwarming. Off-the-hip shots of some kind of battle. Organised ranks of soldiers firing rockets into our hives, rifles popping us off with precision, one two three. Private citizens with their machetes and chainsaws hacking through us like blackberry vines, spattering our dark juices on the camera lens. Monumental stacks of freshly re-killed corpses, soaked in gasoline and lit. Smoke. Blood. Family photos from our vacation in Hell. But as unsettling as this slide show is, Iââ¬â¢ve seen it before. Iââ¬â¢ve witnessed the Boneys performing it dozens of times, usually for children. They drift around the airport with cameras dangling from their vertebrae, occasionally following us on feeding trips, lingering in the back to document the bloodshed, and I always wonder what it is theyââ¬â¢re after. Their subject matter follows a precise theme that never varies: corpses. Battles. Newly converted zombies. And themselves. Their meeting rooms are wallpapered with these photos, floor to ceiling, and sometimes they drag in a young zombie and make him stand there for hours, even days, silently appreciating their work. You read "Warm Bodies Chapter 7" in category "Essay examples" Now this skeleton, identical to the rest, hands me these Polaroids slowly and civilly, confident that the images speak for themselves. The message of todayââ¬â¢s sermon is clear: inevitability. The immutable, binary results of our interactions with the Living. They die / we die. A noise rises from where the skeletonââ¬â¢s throat would be, a crowing sound full of pride and reproach and stiff, rigid righteousness. It says everything it and the rest of the Boneys have to say, their motto and mantra. It says, I rest my case, and Thatââ¬â¢s the way it is, and Because I said so. Looking straight into its eye sockets, I let the photos fall to the floor. I rub my fingers against each other as if trying to brush off some dirt. The skeleton does not react. It just stares at me with that horrible, hollow stare, so utterly motionless it seems to have stopped time. The dark hum in its bones dominates everything, a low sine wave prickling with sour overtones. And then, so abruptly it makes me jump, the creature pivots away and rejoins its comrades. It barks out one last horn blast, and the Boneys descend the escalator. The rest of the Dead disperse, sneaking hungry glances at Julie. M is the last to go. He scowls at me, then lumbers away. Julie and I are alone. I turn to face her. Now that the situation has settled and the blood on the floor is drying, Iââ¬â¢m finally able to contemplate whatââ¬â¢s happening here, and somewhere deep in my chest, my heart wheezes. I gesture towards what I assume is the ââ¬ËDeparturesââ¬â¢ sign and give Julie a questioning look, unable to hide the hurt behind it. Julie looks at the floor. ââ¬ËItââ¬â¢s been a few days,ââ¬â¢ she mumbles. ââ¬ËYou said a few days.ââ¬â¢ ââ¬ËWanted to . . . take you home. Say goodbye.ââ¬â¢ ââ¬ËWhat difference does it make? I had to leave. I mean, I canââ¬â¢t stay here. You realise that, right?ââ¬â¢ Yes. Of course I realise that. Sheââ¬â¢s right, and Iââ¬â¢m ridiculous. And yet . . . But what if . . . I want to do something impossible. Something astounding and unheard of. I want to scrub the moss off the Space Shuttle and fly Julie to the moon and colonise it, or float a capsized cruise ship to some distant island where no one will protest us, or just harness the magic that brings me into the brains of the Living and use it to bring Julie into mine, because itââ¬â¢s warm in here, itââ¬â¢s quiet and lovely, and in here we arenââ¬â¢t an absurd juxtaposition, we are perfect. She finally meets my eyes. She looks like a lost child, confused and sad. ââ¬ËBut thanks for uh . . . saving me. Again.ââ¬â¢ With great effort, I pull out of my reverie and give her a smile. ââ¬ËAny . . . time.ââ¬â¢ She hugs me. Itââ¬â¢s tentative at first, a little scared, and yes, a little repulsed, but then she melts into it. She rests her head against my cold neck and embraces me. Unable to believe whatââ¬â¢s happening, I put my arms around her and just hold her. I almost swear I can feel my heart thumping. But it must just be hers, pressed tight against my chest. We walk back to the 747. Nothing has been resolved, but sheââ¬â¢s agreed to postpone her escape. After the messy scene we just caused, it seems prudent to lay low for a bit. I donââ¬â¢t know exactly how much the Boneys will object to the irregularity Julie represents, because this is the first time anyone has challenged them. My case has no precedent. We enter a connecting hallway suspended over a parking lot, and Julieââ¬â¢s hair dances in the wind whistling through shattered windows. Decorative indoor shrub beds have been overrun with wild daisies. Julie sees them, smiles, picks a handful. I pluck one from her hands and clumsily stick it in her hair. It still has its leaves, and it protrudes awkwardly from the side of her head. But she leaves it in. ââ¬ËDo you remember what it was like living with people?ââ¬â¢ she asks as we walk. ââ¬ËBefore you died?ââ¬â¢ I wave a hand in the air vaguely. ââ¬ËWell, itââ¬â¢s changed. I was ten when my home town got overrun and we came here, so I remember what it used to be like. Things are so different now. Everythingââ¬â¢s gotten smaller and more cramped, noisier and colder.ââ¬â¢ She pauses at the end of the overpass and looks out the empty windows at a pale sunset. ââ¬ËWeââ¬â¢re all corralled in the Stadium with nothing to think about but surviving to the end of the day. No one writes, no one reads, no one really even talks.ââ¬â¢ She spins the daisies in her hands, sniffs one. ââ¬ËWe donââ¬â¢t have flowers any more. Just crops.ââ¬â¢ I look out of the opposite windows, at the dark side of the sunset. ââ¬ËBecause of us.ââ¬â¢ ââ¬ËNo, not because of you. I mean, yeah, because of you, but not just you. Do you really not remember what it was like before? All the political and social breakdowns? The global flooding? The wars and riots and constant bombings? The world was pretty far gone before you guys even showed up. You were just the final judgement.ââ¬â¢ ââ¬ËBut weââ¬â¢re . . . whatââ¬â¢s killing you. Now.ââ¬â¢ She nods. ââ¬ËSure, zombies are the most obvious threat. The fact that almost everyone who dies comes back and kills two more people . . . yeah, thatââ¬â¢s some grim math. But the root problem has to be bigger than that, or maybe smaller, more subtle, and killing a million zombies isnââ¬â¢t going to fix it, because thereââ¬â¢s always going to be more.ââ¬â¢ Two Dead appear from around a corner and lunge at Julie. I crack their heads together and drop them, wondering if I might have studied martial arts in my old life. I seem to be a lot stronger than my lean frame suggests. ââ¬ËMy dad doesnââ¬â¢t care about any of that,ââ¬â¢ Julie continues as we walk down the loading tunnel and enter the plane. ââ¬ËHe was an army general back when the government was still going on, so thatââ¬â¢s how he thinks. Locate the threat, kill the threat, wait for orders from the big-picture people. But since the big picture is gone and the people who drew it are all dead, what are we supposed to do now? No one knows, so we do nothing. Just salvage supplies, kill zombies, and expand our walls further out into the city. Basically, Dadââ¬â¢s idea of saving humanity is building a really big concrete box, putting everybody in it, and standing at the door with guns until we get old and die.ââ¬â¢ She flops across a seat and takes a deep breath, lets it out again. She sounds so tired. ââ¬ËI mean, obviously, staying alive is pretty fucking important,ââ¬â¢ she says. ââ¬ËBut thereââ¬â¢s got to be something beyond that, right?ââ¬â¢ My mind drifts through the last few days, and I find myself thinking about my kids. The image of them in that hallway, making a toy out of a stapler, playing together and laughing. Laughing. Have I seen other Dead children laugh? I canââ¬â¢t remember. But thinking about them, that look in their eyes as they hugged my legs, I feel strange emotions welling up in me. What is that look? Where does it come from? In that lovely film projected on their faces, what beautiful score is playing? What language is the dialogue? Can it be translated? The jet cabin is silent for several minutes. Lying on her back, Julie cranes her head and looks out of the window upside down. ââ¬ËYou live in an airplane, R,ââ¬â¢ she says. ââ¬ËThatââ¬â¢s pretty neat. I miss seeing airplanes in the sky. Have I told you about how I miss airplanes?ââ¬â¢ I go to the record player. The Sinatra record is still going, skipping on a blank inner groove, so I nudge the needle to ââ¬ËCome Fly With Meââ¬â¢. Julie smiles. ââ¬ËSmooth.ââ¬â¢ I lie out on the floor and fold my hands over my chest, gazing up at the ceiling, haphazardly mouthing the songââ¬â¢s words. ââ¬ËHave I also told you,ââ¬â¢ Julie says, twisting her head to look at me, ââ¬Ëthat in a weird way itââ¬â¢s actually been kinda nice, being here? I mean aside from almost getting eaten like four times. Itââ¬â¢s been years since Iââ¬â¢ve had this much time to just breathe and think and look out of windows. And you have a pretty decent record collection.ââ¬â¢ She reaches down and sticks a daisy into my folded hands, then giggles. It takes me a moment to realise I look like the corpse in an old-fashioned funeral. I jolt upright as if struck by lightning, and Julie bursts out laughing. I canââ¬â¢t help a little smile. ââ¬ËAnd you know the craziest part, R?ââ¬â¢ she says. ââ¬ËSometimes I barely believe youââ¬â¢re a zombie. Sometimes I think youââ¬â¢re just wearing stage make-up, because when you smile . . . itââ¬â¢s pretty hard to believe.ââ¬â¢ I lie down again and fold my hands behind my head. Embarrassed, I keep my face mirthless until Julie falls asleep. Then I slowly let it creep back, smiling at the ceiling as the stars flicker to life outside. Early the following afternoon, her soft snoring tapers off. Still lying on the floor, I wait for the sounds of her waking up. The shifting of weight, the tight inhale of breath, the small whimper. ââ¬ËR,ââ¬â¢ she says groggily. ââ¬ËYeah.ââ¬â¢ ââ¬ËTheyââ¬â¢re right, you know.ââ¬â¢ ââ¬ËWho?ââ¬â¢ ââ¬ËThose skeletons. I saw the pictures they showed you. Theyââ¬â¢re right about whatââ¬â¢ll probably happen.ââ¬â¢ I say nothing. ââ¬ËOne of our people got away. When your group attacked us, my friend Nora hid under a desk. She saw you . . . capture me. It might take Security some time to track which hive you took me to, but theyââ¬â¢ll figure it out soon, and my dad will come here. Heââ¬â¢ll kill you.ââ¬â¢ ââ¬ËAlready . . . dead,ââ¬â¢ I reply. ââ¬ËNo youââ¬â¢re not,ââ¬â¢ she says, and sits up in her chair. ââ¬ËYouââ¬â¢re obviously not.ââ¬â¢ I think about what sheââ¬â¢s saying for a moment. ââ¬ËYou want . . . to go back?ââ¬â¢ ââ¬ËNo,ââ¬â¢ she says, and then seems startled. ââ¬ËI mean, yeah, of course, but . . .ââ¬â¢ She lets out a flustered groan. ââ¬ËIt doesnââ¬â¢t matter either way, I have to. Theyââ¬â¢re going to come here and wipe you out. All of you.ââ¬â¢ I fall silent again. ââ¬ËI donââ¬â¢t want to be responsible for that, okay?ââ¬â¢ She seems to be pondering something as she talks. Her voice is tight, conflicted. ââ¬ËIââ¬â¢ve always been taught that zombies are just walking corpses to be disposed of, but . . . look at you. Youââ¬â¢re more than that, right? So what if there are others like you?ââ¬â¢ My face is stiff. Julie sighs. ââ¬ËR . . . maybe youââ¬â¢re sappy enough to find martyrdom romantic, but what about the rest of these people? Your kids? What about them?ââ¬â¢ She is nudging my mind down streets itââ¬â¢s rarely travelled. For however many months or years Iââ¬â¢ve been here, Iââ¬â¢ve never thought of these other creatures walking around me as people. Human, yes, but not people. We eat and sleep and shuffle through the fog, walking a marathon with no finish line, no medals, no cheering. None of the airportââ¬â¢s citizens seemed much perturbed when I killed four of us today. We view ourselves the same way we view the Living: as meat. Nameless, faceless, disposable. But Julieââ¬â¢s right. I have thoughts. I have some kind of a soul, shrivelled and impotent as it may be. So maybe the others do, too. Maybe thereââ¬â¢s something there worth salvaging. ââ¬ËOkay,ââ¬â¢ I say. ââ¬ËYou have . . . to leave.ââ¬â¢ She nods silently. ââ¬ËBut Iââ¬â¢m . . . going with you.ââ¬â¢ She laughs. ââ¬ËTo the Stadium? Tell me that was a lame joke.ââ¬â¢ I shake my head. ââ¬ËWell, letââ¬â¢s think about that a moment, shall we? You? Are a zombie. As well-preserved and kinda charming as you may be, you are a zombie, and guess what everyone in the Stadium over the age of ten is training seven days a week to do?ââ¬â¢ I say nothing. ââ¬ËExactly. To kill zombies. So, if I can make this any clearer ââ¬â you canââ¬â¢t come with me. Because they will kill you.ââ¬â¢ I clench my jaw. ââ¬ËSo?ââ¬â¢ She tilts her head, and her sarcasm dissolves. Her voice becomes tentative. ââ¬ËWhat do you mean ââ¬Å"soâ⬠? Do you want to be dead? Really dead?ââ¬â¢ My reflex is to shrug. The shrug has been my default response for so long. But as I lie there on the floor with her worried eyes looking down at me, I remember the feeling that jolted through me the moment I woke up yesterday, that feeling of No! and Yes! That feeling of anti-shrug. ââ¬ËNo,ââ¬â¢ I say to the ceiling. ââ¬ËI donââ¬â¢t want to die.ââ¬â¢ As I say it, I realise Iââ¬â¢ve just broken my syllable record. Julie nods. ââ¬ËWell, good.ââ¬â¢ I take a deep breath and stand up. ââ¬ËNeed . . . to think,ââ¬â¢ I tell her, avoiding eye contact. ââ¬ËBack . . . soon. Lock . . . door.ââ¬â¢ I leave the plane, and her eyes follow me out. People are staring at me. I was always a bit of an outsider here in the airport, but now my mystique has thickened like port wine. When I enter a room, everyone stops moving and watches me. But the looks on their faces arenââ¬â¢t entirely grim. There are notes of fascination buried in their reproach. I find M studying his reflection in a lobby window, sticking his fingers in his mouth and prodding. I think heââ¬â¢s trying to put his face back together. ââ¬ËHi,ââ¬â¢ I say, standing a safe distance away. He glares at me for a moment, then looks back at the window. He gives his upper jaw a firm push, and his cheek-bone pops back into place with a loud snap. He turns to me and smiles. ââ¬ËHowââ¬â¢s . . . look?ââ¬â¢ I wiggle my hand non-committally. Half of his face looks relatively normal, the other half is still a bit concave. He sighs and looks back at the window. ââ¬ËBad . . . news . . . for the ladies.ââ¬â¢ I smile. As deeply different as we are, I have to give M some credit. He is the only zombie Iââ¬â¢ve met whoââ¬â¢s managed to maintain a dangling scrap of humour. Also worthy of note . . . four syllables without pause. He has just matched my former record. ââ¬ËSorry,ââ¬â¢ I say to him. ââ¬ËAbout . . . that.ââ¬â¢ He doesnââ¬â¢t respond. ââ¬ËTalk to you . . . a minute?ââ¬â¢ He hesitates, then shrugs again. He follows me to the nearest set of chairs. We sit down in a dark, defunct Starbucks. Two cups of mouldy espresso sit in front of us, abandoned long ago by two friends, two business partners, two people who just met in the terminal and bonded over a shared interest in brains. ââ¬ËReally . . . sorry,ââ¬â¢ I say. ââ¬ËIrrit . . . able. Lately.ââ¬â¢ M narrows his brow. ââ¬ËWhat . . . going on . . . with you?ââ¬â¢ ââ¬ËDonââ¬â¢t . . . know.ââ¬â¢ ââ¬ËBrought back . . . Living girl?ââ¬â¢ ââ¬ËYes.ââ¬â¢ ââ¬ËYou . . . crazy?ââ¬â¢ ââ¬ËMaybe.ââ¬â¢ ââ¬ËWhatââ¬â¢s . . . feel like?ââ¬â¢ ââ¬ËWhat?ââ¬â¢ ââ¬ËLiving . . . sex.ââ¬â¢ I give him a warning look. ââ¬ËSheââ¬â¢s . . . hot. I would ââ¬â ââ¬Ë ââ¬ËShut up.ââ¬â¢ He chuckles. ââ¬ËFucking . . . with you.ââ¬â¢ ââ¬ËItââ¬â¢s not . . . that. Not . . . like that.ââ¬â¢ ââ¬ËThen . . . what?ââ¬â¢ I hesitate, not sure how to answer. ââ¬ËMore.ââ¬â¢ His face gets eerily serious. ââ¬ËWhat? Love?ââ¬â¢ I think about this, and I find no response beyond a simple shrug. So I shrug, trying not to smile. M throws back his head and does his best impression of laughter. He thumps me on the shoulder. ââ¬ËMy . . . boy! Lover . . . boy!ââ¬â¢ ââ¬ËLeaving . . . with her,ââ¬â¢ I tell him. ââ¬ËWhere?ââ¬â¢ ââ¬ËTaking . . . her home.ââ¬â¢ ââ¬ËStadium?ââ¬â¢ I nod. ââ¬ËKeep her . . . safe.ââ¬â¢ M considers this, watching me with concern clouding his bruised face. ââ¬ËI . . . know,ââ¬â¢ I sigh. M folds his arms over his chest. ââ¬ËWhat . . . going on . . . with you?ââ¬â¢ he asks me again. And again, I have no answer but a shrug. ââ¬ËYou . . . okay?ââ¬â¢ ââ¬ËChanging.ââ¬â¢ He nods uncertainly, and I squirm under his probing eyes. Iââ¬â¢m not used to having deep conversations with M. Or with any of the Dead, for that matter. I rotate the coffee cup in my fingers, intently studying its fuzzy green contents. ââ¬ËWhen . . . figure out . . .ââ¬â¢ M finally says, in a tone more earnest than Iââ¬â¢ve ever heard from him, ââ¬Ëtell me. Tell . . . us.ââ¬â¢ I wait for him to crack wise, turn it into a joke, but he doesnââ¬â¢t. He is actually sincere. ââ¬ËI will,ââ¬â¢ I say. I slap him on the shoulder and stand up. As I walk away, he gives me that same strange look Iââ¬â¢m finding on the faces of all the Dead. That mixture of confusion, fear and faint anticipation. How to cite Warm Bodies Chapter 7, Essay examples
Sunday, April 26, 2020
The British Press Essay Research Paper It free essay sample
The British Press Essay, Research Paper It is no secret that the # 8216 ; tabloid # 8217 ; or # 8216 ; popular # 8217 ; imperativeness has been capable to unfavorable judgment for many old ages, and the grounds for it are made far move obvious when it is compared to the circular imperativeness. It is, nevertheless, merely rather late that the division has become so really clear as it is today # 8211 ; and there are few people in the UK who are incognizant of the circular / tabloid division. But, what one may inquire, are the differences between the two, and so, why do they be? The easier reply to the latter is that the divisions in the two types of imperativeness reflects a division in society of certain groups of people clamoring after different intelligence and alternate ways of showing this intelligence. It is in about every facet of the documents that the incongruousnesss are apparent # 8211 ; the subjects covered, the linguistic communication used, the artworks, picture taking and layout and the framings of diff erent narratives. We will write a custom essay sample on The British Press Essay Research Paper It or any similar topic specifically for you Do Not WasteYour Time HIRE WRITER Only 13.90 / page This essay will try to sketch the stalking-horse for the type of coverage which has now become typical of the yellow journalism newspapers and illustrations of this coverage. In making so, a consideration of why it is so capable to debate and unfavorable judgment should emerge. In my ain sentiment, I think that we can non claim to cognize or understand the grounds for the contrast, and it will of all time stay equivocal as to why the divisions have become clear # 8211 ; although many bookmans have put frontward statements. However, it seems more simple to propose grounds for the self-evident unfavorable judgments which today environment journalists and moguls who have helped to make the civilization of # 8216 ; documentary # 8217 ; , # 8216 ; chequebook news media # 8217 ; and sensationalism. Possibly the censures have grown from the popular imperativeness # 8217 ; deficiency of earnestness, the lack of impersonal, thorough and pointful coverage of what are deemed # 8216 ; of import # 8217 ; issues. Often, tabloid imperativeness coverage can, by its skip of facts and scandalmongering coverage, be misdirecting to the reader # 8211 ; a factor which seems to justify unfavorable judgment. This was apparent in the Sun # 8217 ; s coverage of the 20 April 1999 events in Serbia when a civilian convoy was gunned down by Nato troops # 8211 ; this is a fact and was admitted by Nato before the publication of the article: SERB MONSTERS SHOT REFUGEES THEN BLAMED US # 8220 ; A Nato commanding officer insisted yesterday that Serbs slaughtered Kosovan refugees in a convoy slaughter blamed on the Alliance # 8230 ; The officer said that the grounds proved that Yugoslav tyrant Slobodan Milosevic LIED about the slaughter # 8230 ; # 8221 ; From the headline, the reader automatically would presume, holding possibly heard or read the old twenty-four hours # 8217 ; s intelligence, and after five yearss of Nato # 8217 ; s denials, that it had been confirmed that the convoys were so attacked chiefly by Serbian military personnels. Whereas a sub-headline on the front page of the Daily Telegraph of the same twenty-four hours confirms the NATO admittance # 8220 ; We hit both convoys # 8221 ; . This clearly and unambiguously gives the facts in one headline whereas one has to read and level the article The Sun # 8217 ; s political editor Trevor Kavanagh nowadayss. The Sun # 8217 ; s piece could easy be criticised as a signifier of unadulterated propaga nda. The existent release of the admittance from General Leaf came at three O # 8217 ; clock on the 19th April, and as the Daily Telegraph studies, he reported to a imperativeness conference the inside informations of the error, wherein NATO confirmed the two air foraies on two separate convoys, believed by the pilots to be military marks. This illustration shows in one article how the tabloid imperativeness can be manipulative, # 8216 ; loyal # 8217 ; , racialist and misleading, which are so common facets of # 8220 ; trough imperativeness # 8221 ; describing. Possibly the layout of the newspapers categorised as # 8216 ; popular # 8217 ; is what typifies them more than any other factor. Due to the fact that the popular imperativeness label encompasses documents from the Daily Sport to the Express, content, although frequently similar, can non be a specific pigeon-holer. The tabloid imperativeness has predictable content. Equally good as intelligence points of the twenty-four hours # 8211 ; the large political word of the twenty-four hours ( e.g. an update on the London Mayor state of affairs ) , catastrophes ( e.g. the 1984 Ethiopian dearth ) newsworthy famous person events ( e.g. the decease of Princess Diana ) and the twenty-four hours # 8217 ; s athleticss intelligence # 8211 ; the tabloid imperativeness more frequently than non has a large piece ( s ) refering what have become bantering stereotypes: sex, force, public figures in compromising places or simply traveling about their mundane lives, and frequently a paper # 8216 ; run # 8217 ; . Often these subjects take case in point, or are given as much importance as, for illustration, the Mozambique inundations or a stock market clang, if these points have no peculiar # 8217 ; esthesis # 8217 ; value. Take for illustration, The Sun # 8217 ; s front page of April 4th 2000 ( see fond regards ) . On a twenty-four hours when the circulars and the telecasting intelligence were concentrating on Ken Livingstone # 8217 ; s contention over the enquiry into interrupting company jurisprudence and its impact on his function as London Mayor and the other large narrative, the computing machine giant Microsoft being taken to tribunal, its portions falling massively and the eventful impact on today # 8217 ; s 1000000s of Personal computer users, the Sun # 8217 ; s front page shouted # 8220 ; OWN A DONOR # 8221 ; . Far from being an empathic piece on the 100s of people who are saved by organ contribution, or a concentration on the waiting list, the article was concerned chiefly with being proud of its paper # 8230 ; # 8220 ; Today The Sun makes newspaper history with the launch of a groundbreaking wellness run # 8221 ; . This forcing of the documents corporate individuality and its # 8217 ; services to society # 8217 ; is a common trait of yellow journalisms. Very on a regular basis the tabloid imperativeness bend of import issues into commercial ventures and # 8216 ; blow th eir ain huntsmans horns # 8217 ; . The other front page narrative was headlined # 8220 ; SEX CHAIN SNAPS UP KNICKERBOX # 8221 ; and typically added a full length image of a theoretical account in her underwear # 8211 ; an attending grabber, granted, but is the narrative one which warrants taking case in point over of import political intelligence? So, why do the yellow journalisms sell every bit much as they do # 8211 ; The Sun is Britain # 8217 ; s biggest selling newspaper with a readership of over 10 million ; yet it still is bombarded with unfavorable judgment. Possibly those who criticise the # 8220 ; trough imperativeness # 8221 ; are simply unimpressed with the content # 8211 ; but many people clearly are impressed! Yellow journalisms frequently use sexual elements or confidant and # 8216 ; gory # 8217 ; inside informations to do a narrative more interesting to a reader. Having witnessed a displacement in the accents of the yellow journalisms, the readerships have come to anticipate and desire more narratives which are viewed as being scandalmongering. By their usage of such item and # 8216 ; punchy # 8217 ; linguistic communication, the empathy and echt human-interest of frequently shocking narratives of offense and force is lost. Soothhill and Walby1 studied the copiousness and structural coverage of # 8217 ; sex offense in the intelligence # 8217 ; and one of their chief points is that the fact that although # 8220 ; there is a complicated relationship between what is printed in the newspapers and what people come to believe # 8221 ; and that people do non # 8220 ; passively and uncritically absorb all that they read # 8221 ; , the coverage of sex offenses does hold a denudation on what people believe and AIDSs in misconception and sensationalism as respects serious issues. # 8220 ; # 8230 ; the nature of describing obscures the existent nature of sexual force: it underestimates the extent of these offenses, and studies on unusua l instances, for case those in which the raper is a alien and consecutive rapers # 8221 ; ( pp. 157 ) The 24 January 2000 issue of The Mirror reports a narrative headlined # 8220 ; RAID VICTIM ELAYNE, 26, DROPS DEAD OF SHOCK # 8221 ; . The narrative concerns the decease of a adult female after detecting her place had been broken into. This is evidently a deplorable incident, but the author ( Ian Key ) uses linguistic communication such as # 8220 ; she merely collapsed on the floor # 8221 ; and quotes a friend of the asleep stating # 8220 ; I wish they had got in because I would hold had a spell at screening them out! # 8221 ; ; these illustrations are mere cases of the authors insensitiveness towards the predicament of the victim and her relations. The writer seems to # 8216 ; hang-up in # 8217 ; the fact that the stealer did non even enter the house and so the daze was non so great as to justify a decease, but he doesn # 8217 ; t make this in the sense of # 8216 ; what a gratuitous decease # 8217 ; , the mentions are about jeeringly dry. The media industry is one of the largest and fastest turning industries in the universe. A monolithic proportion of Britain # 8217 ; s population ain and watch a telecasting a regular footing. With the # 8216 ; globalisation # 8217 ; of telecasting and the huge array of channels, intelligence and amusement are merely the imperativeness of a bu tton off for most people. With entree to the intelligence ever at their fingertips, are people get downing to trust on the popular imperativeness for something different or more than merely ââ¬Ënewsââ¬â¢ ? Has the popular imperativeness developed its scandalmongering paparazzi attitudes because there is a public desire for it? It is human nature to ââ¬Ëgossipââ¬â¢ and possibly that is what the yellow journalism provides. The undermentioned quotation mark was taken from a web site bulletin board devoted to commentary on the tabloid imperativeness from ordinary people: ââ¬Å"The truth is that the tabloid imperativeness is a merchandise of our society. But non a inactive 1. It is a consumable that consumes our basest frights and twists them for its circulation ( all in the public involvement, of class ) . The tabloid imperativeness is the asshole progeny of Britainââ¬â¢s lowest nature and it finds plenty to feed on in our [ the populace s ] crazy fears.â⬠2 This sentiment and many similar to it are based on subjects which are progressively noticeable in the yellow journalisms # 8211 ; they include xenophobia, agism, sexism and classism. This is non to state that the circular imperativeness do non hold elements of prejudice # 8211 ; there are few documents that take no political stance nevertheless subtle. Peter Leigh has picked up upon the favoritism that documents such as The Sun and The Star push as being in the national involvement. This is peculiarly the instance as respects athletics and national squads. The 30 March 2000 issue of The Sun covered a narrative about the U-21 European Football Championship Finals, affecting Yugoslavia and England. The headline ( see attached ) reads # 8220 ; WILKO KIDS TAME THE YUGO THUGS # 8221 ; # 8211 ; the piece refers to the racial maltreatment of Emile Heskey, an England participant. The journalist ( Brian Woolnough ) begins his article with this lead: # 8220 ; Emile Heskey got a gustatory sensation of things to come when he was punched, kicked and spat at by a clump of dirty Yugoslavs # 8221 ; There is an obvious component of racism in the article which is apparent from this quotation mark, but what is uneven and inconsistent is that the journalist goes on to claim that # 8220 ; Heskey [ who is black ] , 22, was the participant targeted for particular intervention from Yugoslavia # 8211 ; and FA functionaries even had to step in to hold the gross outing racial maltreatment and monkey noises hurled at him by opposing fans # 8221 ; . When writers in the yellow journalisms are so clearly hypocritical when utilizing phrases like # 8220 ; dirty Yugoslavians # 8221 ; , # 8220 ; Yugo thugs # 8221 ; , # 8220 ; the abominable Milan Obradonic # 8221 ; yet shouting the cause of racism for English people ( or English participants ) , how can they avoid unfavorable judgment? With this sort of attitude put frontward by a paper that has over 10 million readers, is it any admiration that football # 8216 ; fans # 8217 ; are encouraged to contend and be misguidely # 8216 ; loyal # 8217 ; . Tabloids actively encouraged the # 8216 ; Hun-bashing # 8217 ; attitude of the England frights during the 1998 World Cup # 8211 ; is this what society truly needs? The image of adult females in the yellow journalisms is besides a bone of contention, and has been for the past three decennaries. The typical image of a adult females in a yellow journalism is # 8216 ; curvy # 8217 ; , slim, reasonably and immature, and more frequently than non semi-nude. # 8220 ; Page 3 # 8243 ; began in the seventiess with # 8220 ; a # 8216 ; half-dressed Swedish smoothie # 8217 ; every bit good as a intelligence narrative about a adult male described as a # 8216 ; walking lust automat # 8217 ; # 8221 ; 3 ( Williams, p. 221 ) . These presentations of an ideal adult females is extremely criticised by feminist observers who argue that the yellow journalisms are perpetuating this thought of a perfect adult females, which has such a broad stretch influence that ordinary adult females are expected, and therefore to, look the same. Another unfavorable judgment which has gained impulse in recent old ages is the increasing chase of famous person intelligence. Th e decease of Princess Diana is the one event which ricocheted throughout the universe. The unfavorable judgment that the paparazzi # 8220 ; hounded the Princess to decease # 8221 ; is one held up by many critics and has led to calls for rigorous imperativeness ordinance. The administration CATT4 have web sites which claim that # 8220 ; the attitude of most people is that because person is in the public oculus, they should anticipate to hold their lives put under a microscope # 8230 ; freedom of address and the freedom of the imperativeness [ should non ] invade person # 8217 ; s privateness in the pattern of these two rights # 8221 ; CATT claim that they are non # 8220 ; merely contending the paparazzi, but the whole yellow journalism imperium # 8221 ; . It is true that the yellow journalisms do perpetuate the invasion of privateness attributed to the paparazzi. The populace, harmonizing to CATT, are the lone people with the # 8220 ; power to halt it # 8221 ; . In Newspape rs and the Press5, Curran attempts to depict what has shaped and influenced the imperativeness as it stands today. Harmonizing to Curran in a broad society like Britain, the imperativeness is # 8220 ; an independent establishment that empowers the people # 8221 ; and it became so through these stairss: the bureau of the province, the adjuntiveness of the political parties and the monolithic and alone rise of commercialization. In response the imperativeness, and peculiarly the yellow journalisms became market led merchandises run by pragmatists. At least, this is the theory # 8211 ; that the content of the imperativeness is audience led, but this is so a questionable theory # 8211 ; so how much call is at that place for a front page life-size exposure of Elton John with his face in Elizabeth Hurley # 8217 ; s thorax ( The Sun, Thursday 30 March 2000 ) . Curran claims that media professionals are non in touch with what their audiences really want, but have, and have put into pat tern strong positions what their readerships need. Gans6 argues that the intelligence and media administrations are one of the most powerful characteristics of today # 8217 ; s society, Curran quotes him, # 8220 ; while large concern corporations are # 8216 ; nominal directors # 8217 ; , intelligence administrations and journalists are the existent 1s # 8221 ; . But although the extended hierarchies of intelligence administrations ( The Mirror Group, IPC, Reuters etc. ) have become really powerful, there are still strong elements of single liberty in the tabloid imperativeness. On peculiar narratives, journalists are seldom given a specific line to take ( with the exclusion of intrinsic lines # 8211 ; a Guardian newsman could non practicably take a fascist line ) and are seldom told to hide any information on their narrative. Gans # 8217 ; brushing statements have their defects # 8211 ; journalists are on a tighter rein than they really imagine frequently ; they may be sub e mended or unpublished so it is apparent that the hierarchal substructures of the media administrations are the accountants of what we read. Is this just though? Should monolithic concern corporations be in charge of what the people of Britain read, or should at that place be right executions and steps to guarantee that the populace are presented with what they want to be? A strand of the media hypothesis # 8216 ; broad optimism # 8217 ; claims that the imperativeness is brooding of # 8220 ; the cultural values of a socially harmonious society # 8221 ; and the premises and premises in the imperativeness are framed by the common civilization of society. What Curran call the broad synthesis is that the # 8220 ; News media can be seen as being shaped by consumer demand, the professional concerns of media workers, pluralistic beginning webs, and the corporate values of society # 8221 ; . This seems somewhat optimistic as there are few processs which show what the readership really want. In decision, it # 8217 ; s clear that tabloid newspaper do warrant unfavorable judgment. But what is besides clear is that the success of the yellow journalisms is dependent on the amusement value they provide to the public # 8211 ; and this is why they are so successful. The esthesis and excitement people find in the yellow journalisms and the chitchat they include is a formula for success in what seems like a society hungering for more and more information. It seems that because in today # 8217 ; s extremely advanced ( technologically ) society, we have every bit much information available as is conceivable, and so to stay profitable, documents ( peculiarly yellow journalisms ) have to happen different information to show. It seems like the yellow journalisms have developed an enviable format nevertheless, because documents like the Guardian and The Times have taken on a far more # 8216 ; tabloid # 8217 ; visual aspect than they of all time had before, with coloring material a nd panels demoing the high spots of the documents contents inside # 8211 ; Williams calls this # 8220 ; bright and breezy # 8211 ; easy on the oculus # 8221 ; 7. This is a turning theoretical account known as # 8216 ; tabloidisation # 8217 ; . The inquiry still remains about how far the yellow journalisms should travel in the chase and presentation of this information, but it is clear that although there are many critics, there are more protagonists.
Thursday, March 19, 2020
A Review of Robinson Crusoe by Daniel Defoe
A Review of 'Robinson Crusoe' by Daniel Defoe Have you ever wondered what you would do if you washed up on a deserted island? Daniel Defoe dramatizes such an experience in Robinson Crusoe! Daniel Defoes Robinson Crusoe was inspired by the story of Alexander Selkirk, a Scottish sailor who went to sea in 1704. Selkirk requested that his shipmates put him ashore on Juan Fernandez, where he remained until he was rescued by Woodes Rogers in 1709. Defoe may have interviewed Selkirk. Also, several version of Selkirks tale were available to him. He then built on the story, adding his imagination, his experiences, and a whole history of other stories to create the novel for which he has become so well-known. Daniel Defoe In his lifetime, Defoe published more than 500 books, pamphlets, articles, and poems. Unfortunately, none of his literary endeavors ever brought him much financial success or stability. His occupations ranged from spying and embezzling to soldiering and pamphleteering. He had started out as a merchant, but he soon found himself bankrupt, which led him to choose other occupations. His political passions, his flare for libel, and his inability to stay out of debt also caused him to be imprisoned seven times. Even if he wasnt financially successful, Defoe managed to make a significant mark on literature. He influenced the development of the English novel, with his journalistic detail and characterization. Some claim that Defoe wrote the first true English novel: and hes often considered to be the father of British journalism. At the time of its publication, in 1719, Robinson Crusoe was a success. Defoe was 60 when he wrote this first novel; and he would write seven more in the years to come, including Moll Flanders (1722), Captain Singleton (1720), Colonel Jack (1722), and Roxana (1724). The Story of Robinson Crusoe Its no wonder the story was such a success... The story is about a man who is stranded on a desert island for 28 years. With the supplies hes able to salvage from the wrecked ship, Robinson Crusoe eventually builds a fort and then creates for himself a kingdom by taming animals, gathering fruit, growing crops, and hunting.The book contains adventure of all sorts: pirates, shipwrecks, cannibals, mutiny, and so much more... Robinson Crusoes story is also Biblical in many of its themes and discussions. Its the story of the prodigal son, who runs away from home only to find calamity. Elements of the story of Job also appear in the story, when in his illness, Robinson cries out for deliverance: Lord, be my help, for I am in great distress. Robinson questions God, asking, Why has God done this to me? What have I done to be thus used? But he makes peace ââ¬â¹and goes on with his solitary existence. After more than 20 years on the island, Robinson encounters cannibals, which represent the first human contact hes had since being stranded: One day, about noon, going towards my boat, I was exceedingly surprised with the print of a mans naked foot on the shore, which was very plain to be seen on the sand. Then, hes alone - with only the brief far-off view of a shipwreck - until he rescues Friday from the cannibals. Robinson finally makes his escape when a ship of mutineers sail to the island. He and his companions help the British captain to take back control of ââ¬â¹the ship. He sets sail for England on December 19, 1686after spending 28 years, 2 months, and 19 days on the island. He arrives back in England, after being gone for 35 years, and finds that he is a wealthy man. Loneliness and the Human Experience Robinson Crusoe is the tale of a lonely human being who manages to survive for years without any human companionship. Its a story about the different ways that men cope with reality when hardship comes, but its also the tale of a man creating his own reality, rescuing a savage and fashioning his own world out of the untamed wilderness of a desert island. The tale has influenced many other tales, including The Swiss Family Robinson, Philip Quarll, and Peter Wilkins. Defoe followed up the tale with his own sequel, The Further Adventures of Robinson Crusoe, but that tale was not met with a much success as the first novel. In any case, the figure of Robinson Crusoe has become an important archetypal figure in literature - Robinson Crusoe was described by Samuel T. Coleridge as the universal man.
Monday, March 2, 2020
Ultraviolet Radiation - Definition of Science Terms
Ultraviolet Radiation - Definition of Science Terms Ultraviolet radiation is another name for ultraviolet light. It is a part of the spectrum outside the visible range, just beyond the visible violet portion. Ultraviolet Radiation Definition Ultraviolet radiation is electromagnetic radiation or light having a wavelength greater than 100 nm but less than 400 nm. It is also known as UV radiation, ultraviolet light, or simply UV. Ultraviolet radiation has a wavelength longer than that of x-rays but shorter than that of visible light. Although ultraviolet light is energetic enough to break some chemical bonds, it is not (usually) considered a form of ionizing radiation. The energy absorbed by molecules can provide the activation energy to start chemical reactions and may cause some materials to fluoresce or phosphoresce. The word ultraviolet means beyond violet. Ultraviolet radiation was discovered by the German physicist Johann Wilhelm Ritter in 1801. Ritter noticed invisible light beyond the violet portion of the visible spectrum darkened silver chloride treated paper more quickly than violet light. He called the invisible light oxidizing rays, referring to the chemical activity of the radiation. Most people used the phrase chemical rays until the end of the 19th century, when heat rays became known as infrared radiation and chemical rays became ultraviolet radiation. Sources of Ultraviolet Radiation About 10 percent of the light output of the Sun is UV radiation. When sunlight enters the Earths atmosphere, the light is about 50% infrared radiation, 40% visible light, and 10% ultraviolet radiation. However, the atmosphere blocks about 77% of solar UV light, mostly in shorter wavelengths. Light reaching the Earths surface is about 53% infrared, 44% visible, and 3% UV. Ultraviolet light is produced by black lights, mercury-vapor lamps, and tanning lamps. Any sufficiently hot body emits ultraviolet light (black-body radiation). Thus, stars hotter than the Sun emit more UV light. Categories of Ultraviolet Light Ultraviolet light is broken into several ranges, as described by ISO standard ISO-21348: Name Abbreviation Wavelength (nm) Photon Energy (eV) Other Names Ultraviolet A UVA 315-400 3.103.94 long-wave, black light (not absorbed by ozone) Ultraviolet B UVB 280-315 3.944.43 medium-wave (mostly absorbed by ozone) Ultraviolet C UVC 100-280 4.4312.4 short-wave (completely absorbed by ozone) Near ultraviolet NUV 300-400 3.104.13 visible to fish, insects, birds, some mammals Middle ultraviolet MUV 200-300 4.136.20 Far ultraviolet FUV 122-200 6.2012.4 Hydrogen Lyman-alpha H Lyman- 121-122 10.1610.25 spectral line of hydrogen at 121.6 nm; ionizing at shorter wavelengths Vacuum ultraviolet VUV 10-200 6.20124 absorbed by oxygen, yet 150-200 nm can travel through nitrogen Extreme ultraviolet EUV 10-121 10.25124 actually is ionizing radiation, although absorbed by the atmosphere Seeing UV Light Most people cannot see ultraviolet light, however, this is not necessarily because the human retina cant detect it. The lens of the eye filters UVB and higher frequencies, plus most people lack the color receptor to see the light. Children and young adults are more likely to perceive UV than older adults, but people missing a lens (aphakia) or who have had a lens replaced (as for cataract surgery) may see some UV wavelengths. People who can see UV report it as a blue-white or violet-white color. Insects, birds, and some mammals see near-UV light. Birds have true UV vision, as they have a fourth color receptor to perceive it. Reindeer are an example of a mammal that sees UV light. They use it to see polar bears against snow. Other mammals use ultraviolet to see urine trails to track prey. Ultraviolet Radiation and Evolution Enzymes used to repair DNA in mitosis and meiosis are believed to have developed from early repair enzymes that were designed to fix damage caused by ultraviolet light. Earlier in Earths history, prokaryotes could not survive on the Earths surface because exposure to UVB caused adjacent thymine base pair to bind together or form thymine dimers. This disruption was fatal to the cell because it shifted the reading frame used to replicate genetic material and produce proteins. Prokaryotes that escaped protective aquatic life developed enzymes to repair thymine dimers. Even though the ozone layer eventually formed, protecting cells from the worst of the solar ultraviolet radiation, these repair enzymes remain. Sources Bolton, James; Colton, Christine (2008). The Ultraviolet Disinfection Handbook. American Water Works Association. ISBN 978-1-58321-584-5.Hockberger, Philip E. (2002). A History of Ultraviolet Photobiology for Humans, Animals and Microorganisms. Photochemistry and Photobiology. 76 (6): 561ââ¬â569. doi:10.1562/0031-8655(2002)0760561AHOUPF2.0.CO2Hunt, D. M.; Carvalho, L. S.; Cowing, J. A.; Davies, W. L. (2009). Evolution and spectral tuning of visual pigments in birds and mammals. Philosophical Transactions of the Royal Society B: Biological Sciences. 364 (1531): 2941ââ¬â2955. doi:10.1098/rstb.2009.0044
Saturday, February 15, 2020
Research Paper Outline Assignment Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 500 words - 1
Research Paper Outline - Assignment Example Groves (2010) argues that schools that do not have a policy for dressing usually have problems in the sense that students tend to put on all manner of clothing, some of which border on indecency and controversy. Some clothes worn by students to schools conflict the school policies in terms of dressing code and ethical standards. In this regard, means that the school administrators have a hard time trying to ensure that all students dress appropriately while in school. It implies that much of the precious time that would have been used on instructional leadership is spent on attending to and solving dressing issues. According to (Mathison & Ross, 2008).à Some of the clothing-related conflicts arise from difference in socio-economic status of students that determine the brands of clothes that they wear. Allowing school uniforms to be mandated for public school systems will minimize the wear of baggy clothing that can be used to hide weapons.à Additionally, uniforms eliminate the wear of ââ¬Å"gang related colorsâ⬠which can lead to becoming and unknown target of opportunity.à Baron (2013) gives a classic example of the student who wore baggy clothing unleashing more than ten guns that he had hid in his clothes. In the age of school violence, especially in America, school administrators should not allow baggy clothes and oversized shorts in the school compounds. The boy hid ten kinds of different ammunitions in his oversized shorts and perhaps the trend is even more serious in other schools without the uniform policy. While the supporters of school uniforms agree that schools uniforms significantly reduce incidences of violence and crime in public schools, some parents and students see this policy as an infringement to personal freedom (Alexander & Alexander, 2012).à They argue that the uniform policy where all students must be clad in navy pants or skirts and white shirts is
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